


To Serve

by Dracoravebird



Series: The Things that are Hidden [1]
Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works
Genre: Biting, Blindfolds, Brief mentions of mpreg, Come Inflation, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Kink, Sensory Deprivation, Tentacles, filthy self-indulgent sex scene, this was originally intended for furaffinity until i got attached to the characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoravebird/pseuds/Dracoravebird
Summary: "The Crawling Chaos and his servant have a... complicated master-servant-with-benefits relationship. And benefits don't just mean sex..."Oh my god what did I just write? I'm so sorry Mr. Lovecraft... 0_o'





	To Serve

**Author's Note:**

> I mean it when I say this was originally intended for furaffinity.
> 
> WARNING!!! -- Graphic sex ahead. This is intended for (18+) readers.

Ryan MacReady was not a stupid man, despite his youth at the tender age of twenty-three. He was bright, an abstract mind with a keen eye for history and literature, earning himself a place in Miskatonic University. While young, he had seen enough of the world in the news and the behavior of others to have a fully-established case of misanthropy. Thus, it was no surprise he found himself an easy target for more powerful beings. Ones once thought to be gods.

It had started simple enough. He picked the lock on the reliquary where the more valuable books were kept beneath the university’s library, and there, he found a leather hardback that for whatever reason caught his eye. Gold filigree was printed into charred, cracked leather binds. The pages were yellowed with age, and from the feel of them, were parchment. When he opened it, the letters were… hazy, for lack of a better term, but slowly grew less so until it was legible English script.

The Necronomicon.

He had thought nothing of it. His mind registered it as some fanciful piece of fiction. Maybe a half-finished manuscript for a play, or the holy-book of a cult. Nothing that particularly held his interest, either way, and he shelved it without a second thought in favor of perusing more of the books around him. Not long after that, he began having strange dreams. Ones of exploring bizarre cities and strange, bleak landscapes. Again, nothing odd, per se.

That changed when he stumbled upon a doorway while walking home late at night. The door was propped open with a stone, and he could hear someone talking. It sounded like a lecture of some kind and, like most human beings, curiosity was enough to convince Ryan to investigate. He strode closer, slipping inside, and found himself standing in a small crowd before a strangely tall and lank man. Olive skin, dark brown almost black hair, and oddly metallic gold eyes. He was in a slimming suit. Black, with a dark purple vest with black pinstripes, matching the purple handkerchief in his jacket pocket.

He spoke with charisma, and Ryan was easily lost in his words. He spoke of many things, which only made sense when the young man remembered the Necronomicon.

That stranger had looked straight at him… and smiled.

Ryan could only vaguely recall the night when he walked into his apartment and the stranger was there, jacket off and held resting on his shoulder, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. There was a contract of some kind. Asylum from humanity, in exchange for loyalty, servitude… and certain other issues.

Such as now.

It was not a… not a heat, really. It happened too irregularly for that. His master, ever vague as he was, did not explain much. Only that he needed Ryan’s body. The first time had been scary. The second time, less so. The third time, he looked forward to it. And now…?

The vassal could see it coming. Nyarlathotep was moody. More moody than usual, anyways. Snippy, and irritable. His powers were bubbling just under the surface, to the point where keeping a human form was a bitch-and-a-half. Ryan occasionally caught some odd movement out the corner of his eye, and would quickly redirect his attention elsewhere. His master had warned him many times that their true forms were enough to cause instantaneous insanity, and Ryan did not want to risk it.

Bored, Ryan stood by the bookshelf of DVDs, trying to decide on something to watch, when he felt a pair of cold hands settle on his narrow hips. A mouth nibbled at the back of his neck, accompanied by the sound and sensation of someone sniffing his hair. Quite suddenly, before he could brace for it, he felt unnaturally sharp teeth pierce the back of his neck. The young man cried out, wincing and dropping the two cases previously in his hands. The time had come. He was jerked backwards against a lithe but toned chest, one long-fingered hand closing around his throat as the other arm wrapped around him. Nyarlathotep rained more bites on his precious pet with various growled words in some alien language or another.

“Mast—Ah!” Ryan was tossed onto the bed, and a by now familiar silk blindfold was wrapped firmly around his head.

“You’re the first one to enjoy this sordid affair.” His master’s equally familiar baritone voice chuckled darkly, a smirk in his tone.

“Humans like sex, and I’m a kinky bastard. What can I say?”

“Mm.” The bed dipped as his master loomed over him. “Well, you’re not exactly human anymore, now are you?”

Ryan gasped raggedly as he felt his master’s thin fingers trace his lower belly, where his blessing squirmed just beneath the student’s skin like an octopus with too many legs, resting between flesh and organs in some hidden place his master had made. The sensation had been odd at first, but by now, he loved the odd, squirming sensation the parasite provided. Nyarlathotep chuckled, teasing the creature, listening to his servant moan softly with little, barely-subdued shivers.

“So full of surprises.” Nyarlathotep mused, lapping at the bite he had left.

“Master…” Ryan felt his jeans being pulled open and off, along with his boxers, leaving him only in a baggy t-shirt.

“You’ll get what we want in a moment.”

The shirt was pulled off next, leaving him bare on the cool cotton sheets. The room was chilly, but then again, this old-ass Victorian mansion did not have the best insulation, leading to drafts. As if anticipating what would happen, the parasite in his stomach squirmed. Ryan heard the creak of stretching bones and shifting flesh, along with ripping attire. His master had likely assumed his natural form, or whatever passed for it, thought at a more reasonable size. Thank gods they were on the ground floor. Otherwise, Ryan was sure the floor would collapse.

Cool, smooth tentacles bearing no suckers slid along his flesh, feeling damp to the touch, but whatever the liquid was, it dried instantly leaving goosebumps in its wake. The Crawling Chaos moved over him, and to his surprise, Ryan could make out vaguely humanoid features, a defined shape looming above, leaving dips in the mattress where he braced on assorted limbs. A pair of hands slid along his sides, tracing his ribs and the lines between slender but toned muscles, appraising him like he was a piece of meat. Slender and vaguely soft. Faster than he was strong. For whatever reason, the Crawling Chaos found that to be enticing. It was something even his human form could overpower with barely any effort.

Even so… Ryan was not a brute, but was also not someone Nyarlathotep could intimidate. The waifish man knew very well that at any given moment, his master or one of his kin could kill him for whatever reason, and it would not matter even slightly to anyone. He was there for Nyarlathotep’s pleasure and convenience. His continued existence was a privilege. For some reason, however, something about that entire idea felt liberating. It sent a small thrill through Ryan, making his master’s “gift” visibly distend his stomach, squirming beneath his flesh and occasionally stretching out and making him look like he was sporting a very early pregnancy.

“I could do anything to your body. And you’d never complain.” Nyarlathotep purred, voice a low rumble. “Would you, pet?”

“No, sir.” He breathed out, shuddering. “Not unless it was too much.”

There was a pause, followed by a thoughtful hum. “Honesty. It’s not something I hear often from your kind.”

“I doubt lying would do me any favors.” Ryan reasoned quietly.

“Smart boy.”

There was no warning before teeth again found his flesh, sinking into the skin over one shoulder blade. Ryan cried out, the pain intersected by the pleasure of soft touches and the parasite twisting up in response. His thighs pressed together, low whines escaping his throat as he tried to resituate himself.

Ryan whimpered, feeling a particularly thick tendril grinding against his twitching pucker, slick with some natural slime or another. It bore tapered tip resembling a dick, but also had numerous ridges and fleshy barbs, flaring up and out where they touched his warm skin, which contrasted his master’s tepid temperature so sharply. A pair of tentacles slid up beneath his chest, wrapping around his nipples, pulling, pinching, and rolling the sensitive nubs. Another pair secured his arms behind his back. Ryan’s eyes watered at the stimulation, his cock trying to erect, but unable with the chastity cage kept locked around him at all times besides to clean it.

The denial was familiar. Ryan was forbidden from fucking or being fucked by anything besides his master. If he wanted sex, he would go to his master, and if Nyarlathotep was not in the mood, he would have to wait. His cock throbbed between his legs, trying to harden before going back down, forced to remain soft within the confines of that damned cage. Having his master toy with his nipples did nothing to help, of course. Nyarlathotep wasn't above exploiting such a sensitive place.

“P-Please, master! I need it!” Ryan whined, pressing his brow against the bed.

“You ‘need’ it, hm?” Nyarlathotep chuckled darkly. “So you wish to bear my young and help me tear down this pathetic world to alleviate my boredom?”

“Yes! A-Anything… Anything!”

“Good boy.”

Ryan let out a broken cry as he felt his master’s cock finally press against him. He would never get used to the size, the stretch burning. Thanks to his master’s “gift,” it did not cause him harm, or any real pain. The burn was swift to morph into pleasure, building on the need in his belly and stoking it even higher. By the time the knot pressed up against his backside, he felt like his master’s cock was poking his heart. While his hands were restrained, and he could not touch himself with them, he knew Nyarlathotep’s cock was distending his belly, stretching him beyond what he would have been able to take before the parasitic “gift.”

Thrusts were shallow, expected given the nature of his master’s true form. Ryan shivered as he felt a weight lay over him from behind, pressing him into the soft mattress. Hands skittered all across his form, petting and caressing while mouths kissed and licked at the bite marks almost apologetically. Nyarlathotep was gentle in his motions after that, muttering and cooing to him in the language of the Great Old Ones. The words made Ryan shiver and moan softly. The meaning was lost on him, but the tone… the tone said a lot.

Mine. To keep. Protect. Rule over. Take council from. Mine.

Almost like a wedding vow, really.

The tentacle-like cock wedged deep inside him squirmed and twisted, thrusting in a rippling motion as if it wanted to go deeper. In this form, however, it could not stretch as far. Ryan knew from experience, when Nyarlathotep wanted to experiment with other forms in bed. He loved it. Even though he could never be permitted to SEE then, Ryan could feel certain features and form a picture in his head.

A rumble echoed through the house and in his ribs. It was like the “hill noises” of Dunwich, but softer. Smoother. Of a higher pitch. Perhaps because Nyarlathotep was younger than Yog-Sothoth, or perhaps just because it was Nyarlathotep and such sounds were unique. The sensation of the rumbling made Ryan let out an answering moan, sticking out the fingers of his bound hands and caressing the tendril holding him such. It made his master rock against him a little rougher. A little firmer. Not hard enough to press the knot in, but getting there. His master was many things, and hedonist was among them. If Nyarlathotep could draw it out, he would.

Ryan cried out as he was suddenly moved. Pulled up and turned, as if his master was on the bed on his back, now resting the servant in his arms and tendrils. The air was chilly against his skin, his breath hitching. His master curled almost entirely around him, and if Ryan did not know better, he may have mistook it for being devoured. However, he knew otherwise. No teeth, no barbs, no claws. His master was in a gentle mood, this time.

“P-Please…” Ryan rasped, panting.

“Hm?” Nyarlathotep hummed, his normally smooth baritone distorted by his current form.

“Please let me cum… I wanna cum…”

“Then feel free. You can cum in chastity. People do it every day.”

The man whimpered loudly, feeling tendrils come up and spread his legs to keep him from rubbing his thighs together. 

“Do it. Fuck yourself on my cock. Cum.”

A strained, hiccup-like sob left him, but he obeyed, shifting uneasily until he managed to roll his hips downwards. After a couple tries, he cried out in bliss and relief, feeling his master’s cock hit his sweet-spot and grind against it hard. Ryan rolled his hips again, and again, not even stopping as his already taxed muscles began to burn. He heard his master rumble again behind him, along with deep and panting breaths that smelt of sand and river water. The knot was pressing harder against him. It was clear Nyarlathotep was getting close.

When they finally tied with an almost audible pop, Ryan screamed, his body going taut. After being pent-up for nearly two weeks, he was sobbing, cumming hard, his body clenching down around his master’s girth as he felt the first surge of syrupy, warm release gush inside him. The sounds of his gasps were drowned out by Nyarlathotep’s grunts and growls. Ryan’s pulse was in his ears, and he could feel his stomach swelling with the sheer amount of his master’s release, the goop pouring into him. He felt a hand drag across stretched, sensitized skin, making him aware of the fact he now looked late with twins.

Dazed, Ryan faintly registered shifting behind him, followed by feeling a tall but decidedly human form pressing against him.

“How’re you feeling?” The question was quiet, but carried a strange undertone of concern.

“I-I feel good…” Ryan murmured, shivering. “I’m okay…”

The blindfold was tugged off. Ryan winced even in the low light of the bedroom, and gazed down at himself. The parasitic gift was thrumming or pulsing within him. It almost felt like it was… swelling a bit. Nyarlathotep ran a hand along Ryan’s belly and smirked, kissing behind the servant’s ear with a low but noticeable purr.

“Good." 

\---------

**Author's Note:**

> I'm considering doing a full-on fan fiction of this mess and the shenanigans that follow. Lemme know what you guys think! ^-^


End file.
